


Day 17: Stockings/Socks

by Sang_argente



Series: 25 Days of Fic [17]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vague angst, sequel to day 16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 15:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2855063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sang_argente/pseuds/Sang_argente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I just...you said you didn't have a fireplace but stockings so I sort of...hung them on your bookcase.”</p>
<p>“You hung stockings on my bookcase,” Peter repeated, feeling his eyes widen slightly as Stiles moved to show him that, yes, that was what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 17: Stockings/Socks

Living in an apartment that no one knew the address of had the benefit of never having guests. At least, Peter thought it did. Apparently, he thought to himself as the doorbell rang again, he was wrong.

Frowning, he rose up off the couch and crossed over to the door. As he got closer, the scent of ozone and oranges surrounded him, serving to dial down his anger quite a bit.

“Stiles, what are you doing here?” Peter asked, confusion all over his face as he opened the door. After all, he had just left Stiles's house not even half an hour ago.

“I followed you,” Stiles blurted out, twisting his fingers together as he shifted nervously. “I-I mean, I had an idea and I wanted to tell you but you left your phone on my desk so I-”

“Followed me,” Peter finished dryly, opening the door wider so Stiles could come in. He raised an eyebrow at the bulky backpack hanging off of Stiles's skinny frame but didn't mention it. “And this has nothing to do with the fact that you've never been to my apartment and just had to see it, does it?”

“Hmm?” Stiles asked, turning from where he had been skimming the titles on one of Peter's many bookshelves. As Peter's question caught up with him, he blushed and turned back around. “No, no, of course not. Why would you think that?”

Peter rolled his eyes and closed the door, aware of the old lady across the hall peeking out. That was one of the reasons he didn't want guests, Peter thought. It wasn't anyone else's business who came to see him.

“Oh, I don't know,” Peter said breezily, taking Stiles's backpack from him and leading the teen to the couch. “Maybe because every time my apartment comes up in conversation you get this look on your face like you're swallowing glass?”

“I do not!” Stiles protested, pulling the bag back to him and unzipping it.

“Do too.”

“Fine, yes,” Stiles conceded, pulling out a bundle of fabric and standing to go back over to the bookshelf. “Maybe the fact that you only ever spend time with me inside my own bedroom is a little disconcerting. Maybe I don't appreciate being treated like a dirty little secret when it's obvious everyone knows about us.”

“Nose knows,” Peter murmured out of habit, tracking Stiles's progress. He knew he should have offered to have Stiles over sooner, but, well.

“Maybe,” Stiles continued, not hearing Peter's quiet statement. “Just maybe, I would like to know something about you before everyone else does so they can't use that against me.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Peter asked, genuinely confused.

Stiles turned his back to the bookshelf and faced Peter with thin lips and pale cheeks. “Do you not realize that everything I know about you I learned from other people? And that half of those same people use it as a-a-a _black mark_ against our relationship?”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because!” Stiles exploded a little before visibly restraining himself. “They think it means that you don't trust me and if you don't, then I sure as Hell have no business trusting you.”

“Of course I trust you,” Peter said, voice heavy with exasperation but still sincere.

“You won't even let me in your apartment!”

“You're here now,” Peter pointed out, crossing his arms in defense. “I let you in and let you stay and let you do...whatever it is you were doing. What are you doing?”

Stiles regained some of his color from a heavy flush and fidgeted, waving his hands this way and that. “I just...you said you didn't have a fireplace but _stockings_ so I sort of...hung them on your bookcase.”

“You hung stockings on my bookcase,” Peter repeated, feeling his eyes widen slightly as Stiles moved to show him that, yes, that was what happened.

Two brand new stockings hung from the second tallest shelf, complementing each other in shades of green and red.

“Oh,” he said quietly, not really knowing what else he _could_ say.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, bringing his hand up to rub against the back of his neck. “Look, I'm sorry. I should have waited for you to come back for your phone. I mean, I shouldn't have followed you even though I wanted to do this for you and, yeah, I was sort of hurt that you wouldn't let me come here but I'll just go--”

“Stay,” Peter whispered, reaching for Stiles's hand and curling their fingers together. “Just...stay, please.”

“Sure,” Stiles answered, straightening up a bit so he could reach Peter's lips with his own, leaving a soft kiss against them. “As long as you want.”

“Might be a long time.”

“Good.”

“Mmm.”

“Hey, Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“I was right. It is a stupidly nice apartment.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

**Author's Note:**

> 25 Days of Fic prompts are closed. Regular daily prompts (any pairing/fandom/theme) are still open [here.](http://stilesthesasswolf.tumblr.com)


End file.
